“Butler pulled up his horse by the gate. Him and Susannah bowed to all hands. Nobody said anything for a minute. Then Effie bounced off the trunk and down them steps.
“'Simmie' she sung out, breathless like, 'Simeon Butler, what does this mean?'
“The Debs woman straightened up on the seat. 'Thank you, marm,' says she, chilly as the top section of an ice chest, 'I'll request you not to call my husband by his first name.'
“It was so still you could have heard yourself grow. Effie turned white as a Sunday tablecloth.
“'Your—husband?' she gasps. 'Your—your HUSBAND?'
“'Yes, marm,' purrs the housekeeper. 'My husband was what I said. Mr. Butler and me have just been married.'
“'Sorry, Effie, old girl,' puts in Butler, so sassy I'd love to have preached his fun'ral sermon. 'Too bad, but fust love's strongest, you know. Susie and me was engaged long afore you come to town.'
“THEN such a haw-haw and whoop bust from the kitchen and fo'castle as you never heard. For a jiffy poor Effie wilted right down. Then she braced up and her black eyes snapped.
“'I wish you joy of your bargain, marm,' says she to Susannah. 'You'd ought to be proud of it. And as for YOU,' she says, swingin' round toward the rest of the help, 'I—'
“'How 'bout that prophet?' hollers somebody.